Dalton: The Truth
by Princess Of Monaco
Summary: Everything you know about Dalton is a lie. That was the truth; this sentence is a lie. Join Kurt on his candy-filled journey through Dalton as he finds out exactly who tells the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth: no one.


**Errr... Yeah. I don't own Glee, do I?**

–

Hello there, interested reader.

You are currently reading my journal.

Now if you're not interested in the truth and would rather live a lie...

I suggest you put down my journal.

What's the phrase I'm looking for? Oh yeah.

"_Happily ever after_" doesn't exist in this story.

Life isn't a fairytale, love.

Life is a bitch.

–

"...And here's your map," the brunette boy grinned while producing a folded piece of paper and handing it over to Kurt. "If you need anything else, your best bet is to head to the office or ask another student!"

The boy ran off down the intricate halls.

In just half an hour, Kurt had toured the entirety of Dalton Academy. He was only show the general things such as the classrooms he'd be attending, the main office, and the cafeteria. Still, even having to remember where those were would be a challenge.

Dalton itself was like a maze, built to confuse. Hallways were there and then they weren't. Kurt could swear that one of the suits of armor he had passed _moved_. Yes, Dalton is nothing like McKinley. At least there, things such as staircases were constant.

He looked around, as if a neon sign would appear and say "Follow me!" But one didn't.

Kurt had no idea where to go now.

He was lost in Dalton Academy, abandoned. He opened the map, hoping that there would be some sort of indication of dormitories. His eyes traveled along the halls and staircases. He saw nothing of living quarters, yet he knew that Dalton was an optional boarding school. He had read about it on the ride here. And yet...

Nothing. Kurt folded the map up with a sigh. He could always ask directions. That had been encouraged by his half-wit guide. His eyes roamed the real halls this time.

The mid-morning risers of the day swept past, heading somewhere, but none seemed approachable. All held within their cliques and friends; Kurt felt _really_ alone. He took a deep breath. Enough of feeling sorry for himself! He wouldn't be Kurt Hummel, Bitch of Lima, if he couldn't handle asking where he could meet his fellow classmates and, possibly, be sleeping for the night. Social Food Chains be damned, this was a new school and a new way to make his mark.

Kurt walked up to a pair of boys. One stood taller than Kurt, the other stood shorter, almost like Penn and Teller, except this Teller probably talked.

"Pardon me, but... Can you tell me where is... Uh... the Dorms is? I mean—are?" Kurt asked. _Real smooth, _he mentally facepalmed.

"Yeah, sure! You can follow me!" The shorter blonde boy laughed. He was almost like an elf, cheery and carefree, but his voice was screeching and lacking presence.

"No! You can follow me!" The taller brunette replied. He had an amazingly deep and slightly scary voice.

"No, don't listen to him! He's an idiot! You don't want to hang around with idiots," The blonde scoffed.

"What! I'm not an idiot. He's lying. He does that a lot. You don't follow liars anywhere!"

"I'm not a liar! I'm—"

"Liar liar, pants on fire!" That voice was scary, even when he sang. If he was a Warbler, Kurt may just think twice about that particular extracurricular activity.

"I do not lie, you knucklehead!"

"Oh! Lied again! Everyone lies!"

"Then how we know you're not lying now!"

Kurt watched in stunned silence as the two continued to argue, seeming to forget his presence.

"I'm not lying because I'm nice like that!"

"See, this is why we shouldn't be friends!"

"I never wanted to be friends to begin with, _Clyde_!" The taller yelled at the shorter.

"Me neither, _Jackson_!" The shorter bellowed at the taller, not intimidated by the height difference.

The two stormed off down different hallways, leaving Kurt by himself again. _Social Food Chain, show your colors. I'm lost. I'll follow you blindly, I promise!_ Kurt squeezed his eyes shut.

"Black reporting. Project Clyson: Success. Sparkly White Glove due East. Orange Ghost due North. Shooting for the stars."

Kurt's eyes flashed open at the voice. It was the only voice speaking in this now-empty four-way intersection. Kurt turned to scan the area. His eyes rested on a black-haired mousy boy with glasses crouching behind a stand with a statue perched on top. He was speaking into what appeared to be a walkie-talkie.

A muffled reply came from the walkie-talkie and the boy quickly shoved it into his pocket as he jumped to his feet. It took him but a moment to notice that Kurt was staring at him.

"Hi there. You said you needed help finding a dormitory?" the small boy smiled timidly. He was smoothing out his tuxedo. (Did Dalton students wear tuxedos?) Kurt nodded, still zoned out from his first hour at Dalton. He hoped everyday wouldn't be like this.

"You can come with me, to my dorm. You know, only if you absolutely want to. I'm not forcing you or anything." Kurt nodded eagerly at the proposition. The boy grudgingly gestured down the hall he was already standing in. "You might want to take notes, too. It's quite a ways away from here."

Kurt simply nodded again and followed the boy. If the boy took him out back and slit his throat, so be it. It'd be better than standing here looking like an idiot.

–

"We're here!" The boy announced grandly. Kurt looked around, seeing at least a dozen doors in a circular—for lack of a better word—clearing.

"These are the rooms?" Kurt asked skeptically.

"No... most of these are dud rooms that lead to somewhere else. Only one leads to the actual common room," the small boy replied smartly, adjusting his glasses for the extra effect.

"Okay. Which one is it?" Kurt asked. The boy pointed to the one on the farthest left. He stalked right up to it, completely unafraid of the fact it was the only door that looked like it could be tapped and it would fall off its hinges. Not to mention the sign proclaiming _Janitor's Closet. Keep Out._

"This one!" the boy swung open the door grandly, revealing a hallway of marble floors and intricate furnishings.

"I must commend the architecture of this place. It truly is first-rate," Kurt looked about the hall as he walked forward. It was certainly not like any janitor's closet he'd ever seen. He ran a finger on the stone wall and not a fleck of dust found its way onto his finger.

"Well, uh, I'm not really good with introductions..." the boy muttered as he fell into step with Kurt as he looked around the hall. Just at a glance, he knew this place was the same as the rest of the school. Dalton _was_ built as a maze. "But my name's Edward. Edward Black. Pleasure to meet you."

"Kurt Hummel. Likewise."

"... You're not going to make fun of my name?"

Kurt looked at Edward in surprise. He was more surprised to have to look _down_ so far. The boy couldn't have been taller than 5 feet. "Why would I?"

"Well, you know. Twilight and all that. I usually never hear the end of it. Seems like everyone here has read it and made a connection to my name." _And the gaydar goes "beep beep"!_

"Didn't think of it that way. Besides, you've been around longer than Twilight. Just a coincidence." Kurt had never seen a smile match that of the one on Edward's face at that moment. It was like the boy had just been pointed at by Patti LuPone to sing a duet with her on Broadway. It was unnerving.

They had reached the end of the hall. The hall had branched off into four other halls, but they had went straight ahead to the only door. Very confusing indeed.

"This is the door to the common room. Every member of the House is allowed in here. Once you open this door, there's no going back," Edward nearly whispered. He was looking directly at Kurt in an almost sinister way. "And also, there's something else you have to do."

Edward pulled a mass of black cloth from _somewhere_. Kurt just stared at it while Edward held it up by the sleeves. It was a simple, black cloak with a hood. Nothing particularly special about it. Kurt raised an eyebrow at Edward. Like he would _wear_ that fashion atrocity. In _public_.

"You're with me. You have to," he smiled sheepishly, losing his sinister air like the pop of a bubble. Kurt decided not to push the matter. It was a Dalton thing, apparently. Like the fashion train wrecks that were the uniforms. He slipped on the cloak and smoothed it out, even picking off a piece of fuzz. When he looked back at Edward, he already had one on himself. The only difference was that Edward's had a small, black and white pin over his heart.

"Alright. Remember, you still have a chance to run. Turn away and never come back." His eyes pleaded and begged for him to take him up on the offer. Tried to communicate that this was a big mistake, that somewhere, _anywhere_ else would be safer. Tried to tell him that going through that door could very well be signing his own death certificate. Tried to let him know that things would be very different compared to where he came from.

Kurt smiled at the boy, his new friend.

"Let's do this." And with that, swung open the door.

–

**I don't know how I feel about this. I mean, I didn't write this story to be fanfiction worthy. It was suppose to be just for me, so posting it makes me feel a little uneasy. It might finally show people how crazy I am. I don't think I'm going to post the rest. I don't even know why I posted this much. Just... yeah. I-I feel stupid now. I'm going to shut up.**


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